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able, and will, by proper instruments, defend his own truths. And with regard to what little I have been enabled to do in this way; not to me, not to me, but to his own name, and to that only, be the glory.

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Conversing upon the subject of election, he said; That God's everlasting love to his chosen people; his eternal, particular, most free, and immutable choice of them in Christ Jesus; was without the least respect to any work, or works, of righteousness, wrought, or to be wrought, or that ever should be wrought, in them or by them: for God's election does not depend upon our sanctification, but our sanctification depends upon God's election and appointment of us to everlasting life.--At another time he was so affected with a sense of God's everlasting love to his soul, that he could not refrain from bursting into tears.

"The more his bodily strength was impaired, the more vigorous, lively, and rejoicing, his mind seemed to be. From the whole tenor of his conversation during our interviews, he appeared not merely placid and serene, but he evidently possessed the fullest assurance of the most triumphant faith. He repeatedly told me, that he had not had the least shadow of a doubt, respecting his eternal salvation, for near two years past. It is no wonder, therefore, that he so earnestly longed to be dissolved and to be with Christ. His soul seemed to be constantly panting heaven-ward; and his desires increased, the nearer his dissolution approached.-A short time before his death, at his request, I felt his pulse; and he desired to know, what I thought of it. I told him, that his heart and arteries evidently beat (almost every day) weaker and weaker. He replied immediately with the sweetest smile upon his countenance, Why, that is a good sign, that my death is fast approaching; and blessed be God, I can add, that my heart beats every day stronger and stronger for glory.

"A few days preceding his dissolution, I found him sitting up in his arm chair, and scarce able to move or speak. I addressed him very softly, and asked, if his consolations continued to abound, as they had hitherto done. He quickly replied; O, my dear sir, it is impossible to describe how good God is to me. Since I have been sitting in this chair, this afternoon (glory be to his name!) I have enjoyed such a season, such sweet communion with God, and such delightful manifestations of his presence with, and love to my soul, that it is impossible for words, or any language, to express them. I have had peace and joy unutterable: and I fear not, but that God's consolations and support will continue. But he immediately recollected himself, and added, What have I said? God may, to be sure, as a sovereign, hide his face and his smiles from me; however, I believe he will not; and if he should, yet still will I trust in him: I know I am safe and secure ; for his love and his covenant are everlasting."

To another friend, who, in a conversation with him upon the subject of his principles, had asked him, whether any doubt remained upon his mind respecting the truth of them; he answered; Doubt, sir, doubt! Pray, use not that word, when speaking of me. I cannot endure the term; at least, while God continues to shine upon my soul, in the gracious manner he does now: not (added he) but that I am sensible, that while, in the body, if left of him, I am capable, through the power of temptation, of calling into question every truth of the gospel. But, that is so far from being the case, that the comforts and manifestations of his love are so abundant, as to render my state and condition the most desirable in the world. I would not exchange my condition with any one upon earth. And, with respect to my principles; those blessed truths, which I have been enabled in my poor measure to maintain, appear to me, more than ever, most gloriously indubitable.

My own existence is not, to my apprehension, a greater certainty.

The same friend calling upon him a day or two before his death, he said, with hands clapsed, and his eyes lifted up and starting with tears of the most evident joy, O my dear sir, I cannot tell you the comforts I feel in my soul: they are past expression. The consolations of God to such an unworthy wretch are so abundant, that he leaves me nothing to pray for, but a continuance of them. I enjoy a heaven already in my soul. My prayers are all converted into praise. Nevertheless, I do not forget, that I am still in the body, and liable to all those distressing fears, which are incident to human nature, when under temptation and without any sensible divine support. But so long as the presence of God continues with me in the degree I now enjoy it, I cannot but think that such a desponding frame is impossible. All this he spake with an emphasis, the most ardent that can be conceived.

Speaking to another particular friend upon the subject of his "dying avowal," he expressed himself thus; My dear friend, those great and glorious truths, which the Lord, in rich mercy, has given me to believe, and which he has enabled me (though very feebly) to stand forth in the defence of, are not (as those, who believe not or oppose them, say) dry doctrines, or mere speculative points. No. But, being brought into practical and heart-felt experience, they are the very joy and support of my soul; and the consolations, flowing from them, carry me far above the things of time and sense. Soon afterwards he added; So far as I know my own heart, I have no desire, but to be entirely passive; to live, to die, to be, to do, to suffer, whatever is God's blessed will concerning me; being perfectly satisfied, that, as he ever has, so he ever will do that which is best concerning me; and that he deals out, in number, weight and measure, whatever will con

duce most to his own glory, and to the good of his people.

Another of his friends, mentioning likewise the report that was spread abroad of his recanting his former principles; he said, with some vehemence and emotion, I recant my former principles! God forbid, that I should be so vile an apostate. To which he presently added, with great apparent humility, And yet that apostate I should soon be, if I were left to myself..

To the same friend, conversing upon the subject of his sickness, he said; Sickness is no affliction; pain no curse; death itself no dissolution.

All his conversations, as he approached nearer and nearer to his decease, seemed more and more happy and heavenly. He frequently called himself the happiest man in the world. O! (says he) how this soul of mine longs to be gone! Like a bird imprisoned in a cage, it longs to take its flight. O that I had wings like a dove, then would I flee away to the realms of bliss, and be at rest for ever! O that some guardian angel might be commissioned; for I long to be ab sent from this body, and to be with my Lord for ever. Being asked by a friend, if he always enjoyed such manifestations, he answered; I cannot say, there are no intermissions; for, if there were not, my consolations would be more and greater than I could possibly bear; but, when they abate, they leave such an abiding sense of God's goodness, and of the certainty of my being fixed upon the eternal rock Christ Jesus, that my soul is still filled with peace and joy.

At another time, and indeed for many days together, he cried out, O what a day of sun-shine has this been to me! I have not words to express it. It is unutterable. O, my friends, how good is God! almost without interruption, his presence has been with me. And then, repeating several passages of scripture, he added, What a great thing it is to rejoice in death! Speaking of Christ, he said, his love

is unutterable! He was happy in declaring, that the viiith chapter of the epistle to the Romans, from the 33d to the end of the six following verses, were the joy and comfort of his soul. Upon that portion of scripture, he often descanted with great delight, and would be frequently ejaculating, Lord Jesus! why tarriest thou so long! He sometimes said, I find as the bottles of heaven empty, they are filled again; meaning, probably, the continual comforts of grace, which he abundantly enjoyed.

When he drew near his end, he said, waking from a slumber; O what delights! Who can fathom the joys of the third heaven? And, a little before his departure, he was blessing and praising God for continuing to him his understanding in clearness; but (added he in a rapture) for what is most of all, his abiding presence, and the shining of his love upon my soul. The sky (says he) is clear; there is no cloud: Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly!

Within the hour of his death, he called his friends and his servant, and asked them, if they could give him up: upon their answering in the affirmative, since it pleased the Lord to be so gracious to him, he replied; O what a blessing it is, you are made willing to give me up into the hands of my dear Redeemer, and to part with me: it will not be long before God takes me; for no mortal man can live, (bursting, while he said it, into tears of joy) after the glories, which God has manifested to my soul. Soon after this, he closed his eyes, and found (as Milton finely expresses it)

A death like sleep,
A gentle wafting to immortal life.

On Tuesday August the 11th, 1778, in the 38th year of his age.

On the Monday following, at four o'clock in the afternoon, his remains were brought from Knightsbridge, to Tottenham Court chapel, for the purpose

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